Movie Review: Flesh For Frankenstein

To know life, Otto, you have to fuck death - in the gall bladder.

Well, that quote just about sums up Flesh For Frankenstein (aka Andy Warhol's Frankenstein). It's one part softcore Europorn, one part period gothic, one part poorly-made 3-D gorefest and zero parts interesting. Starring a bunch of no-names and Udo Kier (but I repeat myself), the movie basically is three scenes repeated over and over:

1. Baron Frankenstein hovers over his nude creations and belts out an overwrought monologue to his assistant about how he will rule the world with his perfect race.
2. His wife (also his sister, of course) gets it on with the hired help, usually with her children watching from the shadows.
3. Someone gets killed in a way that causes fake guts to fly towards the camera, giving the 3-D audience something to look at.

Rinse and repeat. Oh, and the rinsing is probably a good idea, since this film is coated with that griminess that seems to cover a lot of these late 60's-early 70's horror films - not the good type of griminess, either.

Look, it's just a typical low-budget 70's erotic horror film, with nothing much to recommend and several reasons to avoid. One star.